Your Light Shines On
by Cerulean Pen
Summary: Because no matter how far he runs, he can never catch up to her…Finn/Amanda


Leave Me Your Light

Summary: Because no matter how far he runs, he can never catch up to her…Finn/Amanda

English Romance/Angst Rated: T Chapters:1 Words: Finn W. & Amanda

**Pairings: **Finn/Amanda, fluffy, but kind of angsty, and a little more focused on Amanda and her personality, with a lot of fluff on the side. =)

**Disclaimer: **Sadly, I don't own Kingdom Keepers.

She's never run this fast before in her entire life. Every time the sole of her sneaker hit's the concrete, it keeps her heart pounding, her blood pumping to the rhythm of the Earth twirling beneath her, her hair gliding in a dark streak against the night sky. Rain floods the ground beneath her, oozes between her red Converse-clad feet, which splash haphazardly through the rain puddles. You'd think someone running away from an orphanage would be quieter, more sneakier on the run, but she doesn't care. Jez runs beside her, silent, almost like a shadow that slips between rain drops, diary in hands. "Are we safe?" she finally asks, just as she discovers that if she were to spread out her arms, she would fly away.

"We're safe for now," is Jez's response, a statement that grounds Amanda back down to the concrete, her arms pumping to her sides now, too afraid to spread them out: she can't take flight, just yet.

_(Liar.)_

0o0

Amanda is the kind of girl who walks through the hallways, wearing Capri's and yellow shirts that reveal her mid-section, the nut-colored flesh she isn't afraid to show. Boys in jerseys lean against lockers, whistling as she walks past, winking or twirling locks of her dark hair; Amanda only smiles because she pities them. She spent her childhood wishing on 11:11 that her true prince would whisk her away like a Disney princess, lead her up stair cases, kiss her under green and gold twilight.

At recess, while jocks storm the blacktop, and cliques spread over the field to gossip, Amanda crouches in the large oak tree where no one thinks to look, kissed by the sun's golden rays (why do you think she's so tan?) hidden by the large leaves. No one would never look up at a girl leaning on the weakest branch, sometimes with a journal, no one would think _"she ran away from an orphanage" _and _"her sister can tell the future" _and _"she wants to be loved so much she hurts."_

But all Amanda thinks about (on the days she forgets her notebook) is that night she ran away, about how she could've flown, if she had the courage, if it hadn't been for Jez falling in silent step beside her. Her eyes are closed, her arms tentatively spread like an eagle's, as the branch snaps beneath her weight, after five months of her sitting on it, and she falls. Why isn't she gone yet?

"What the hell were you doing, jumping out of a tree?" whispers a boy she's seen, she's heard, but blends in so well with a crowd, she skims over him. Amanda opens her eyes, and sees Finn Whitman, brown-haired, not a jock, not a brain, most average freshmen to ever live, Finn Whitman. She opens her mouth to say something, but he's checking her body for broken bones, and she's silent when his fingers brush her ribcage, and can't breathe correctly. But it's not the Disney princess love, not yet. "You could've gotten yourself killed!"

_(Liar.)_

0o0

After a DHI incident, Amanda knows Finn, knows him better then she ever imagined, and squints at him whenever he walks into the room, observing, scrutinizing; his ears turn red, his Adam Apple bobs like a tree during a hurricane, his fingers lace between each other, but Amanda finds it so cute, she can't describe it with words. After so many boys leaning against lockers, whispering invitations into her ear, or making sly jokes about sex, she thinks Finn getting nervous around her is incredibly adorable.

"Why do you hang out with me?" is what she asks, as they sit on the pier at Perdido Beach. The crimson sun is sinking slowly, casting purple shadows out over the peacock gray sea, their feet dangling inches from the cold water's surface; it could be the cover for a romance novel. Amanda waits for an answer, taking a tentative lick of her vanilla ice cream, glancing up at the shades of cotton candy the sky is turning. Unfurling her metaphorical wings now sounds like a good idea, but she remembers the last time she did that around Finn ("what the hell were you doing, jumping out of a tree?") and she wants to hear his answer.

"You're the nicest girl I've ever met," Finn finally answers sincerely, only beginning, fingers tracing the splintering, sea-salt caked edge of the pier, "you're smart, you're creative, and…"

_Don't say it._

"I just think you're so…"

_For the love of God, I can't take it…_

"You're the most beautiful girl in the world."

Amanda pushes him off of the pier, watching as he flails wildly into the sea below them, brown head bobbing like an out-of-control buoy, arms flapping. She doesn't know what to do: laugh like it was a joke, pull him in with a hurried apology, or walk away. Eventually, Amanda slips into the water, which is so icy cold she immediately can't feel her bare legs, and wraps her arms around his still failing body, amazed by this one moment. Finn stops as soon as her fingers brush his damp flesh, and holds his breath when she brushes back a lock of soaking hair. "I-I," she begins, her eyes either wet from the sea or from tears, "I didn't-"

"It's okay," he interrupts, keeping his fingers intertwined with hers, as their flustered heartbeats throbbed in perfect sync, as the last seagull flew from overhead, as the golden sun finally lowered itself beneath the horizon, safe for a good night's sleep. Amanda doesn't know why, but now is the moment she had been wishing for every moment of her life, all the 11:11 and Disney princess and twilight glitter and staircases and magic spells and eyes meeting. "It'll be okay."

For some reason, she slaps him.

_(Liar.)_

0o0

"I don't need my dreams to tell what's going to happen tonight," Jez establishes, running a hairbrush through Amanda's silky hair for the last time, twirling the shiny locks around her fingers, creating an amateur curl that splays across her forehead. Charlene fastens a silver chain around her neck, while Willa snaps a few pictures with Philby's camera (they've been boyfriend/girlfriend for a few months now.) Mascara stays on her eyelashes without running for the first time ever, and the outfit she's wearing (a billowing yellow tank top and white shorts, courtesy of Charlene) actually suits her.

"I don't know what to say," Amanda whispers, all four of them squeezed in front of the mirror, observing her reflection, as she touches the silver chain, then the hoops of similar color. The words sound too Hallmark-card affair, so she smiles, putting her arms over Jez's and Willa's shoulders. "No, I do know what to say: thanks for all of your support, I just can't believe this night is here…"

"We just want you to feel like a princess tonight," Charlene answers happily, with a dreamy expression, the kind girls in chic-flicks get when they talk about their crush, "you and Finn had something special. You don't need any make-up or jewelry to keep him with you, you two have a bond, a connection, just…something amazing. We all wish you luck tonight."

"Yeah," Jez whispers, punching Amanda's shoulder lightly in a sisterly kind of way, "we're here for ya Mandy." There's silence, and Amanda hears the sound of a car horn beeping outside, and she knows that her prince is there to whisk her away to the fairy tale land. "Good luck."

Amanda's vocal cords are too knotted up to say anything, so she nods slightly, walking outside onto the pavement, where cherry blossoms swish beneath her sneakers, fallen rain from the grove of cherry trees planted along the road. There's no car, of course; just Finn, wearing jeans, but a polo too, holding out his arm for her to take, smiling so widely, it looks like his face might crack. "You look like a butterfly," is the first thing he says, and he blushes right after saying it, but Amanda's laughing too hard to see.

"That's really sweet," she utters after linking her arm back into his, scooping a handful of the soft pink and white blossoms, throwing them up into the air, so that they're showered in a million little delicate miracles. To her, the cherry blossoms look more like butterflies, fragile wings that beat to the rhythm of the world turning.

They don't go to a club, or a place where they could smoke, drink, and fuck their lives away: they go to an old-fashioned park, complete with rickety porch swings and everything. For a while, Amanda sits next to Finn on the swings, the chains creaking with each gentle rocking, their shoes barely brushing the dry patch of dirt beneath them, with her head on his shoulder. It's the most peaceful moment of her whole life, and in her mind, she's making fun of Cinderella _"you never had this much fun, you never felt like a real princess, you knew the prince for a day, that's it."_

"Have you ever wanted to fly?" Did she ask it? Amanda doesn't remember moving her mouth, but suddenly the question is in the air, along with the glittering stars and soft breeze that _is _summer. Finn chuckles, not in a teasing way, but in a reminiscing fashion, gingerly lacing his fingers between hers, wondering why his lungs suddenly refuse to function properly.

"I remember when you leapt out of that oak tree, back in eighth grade-I didn't know you then, so I thought you were utterly insane, but really pretty falling through the air," he begins, as chills run down her spine at the thought. "I've never tried to fly, the thought of leaving the ground just seems…risky. Whenever you run though, I'm always afraid that you'll spread out your arms and take off, it seems so possible for you to fly."

"Watch," Amanda breaths, jumping to her feet, running fast enough to wear through the bottom of her lemon yellow sneakers, just the steady _thump _of them beating the sturdily packed soil. Eventually, she hears heavy breathing beside her: Finn is running too, looking out-of-breath, but smiling, shaking his head. "Want me to spread my wings?" she whispers, the wind suddenly harsh, so hard it brings tears to her eyes. _Is it the wind's fault?_

"Go for it." His reply is lost as her thin arms shoot out, her feet accelerating, every nerve in her body tingling and shooting adrenaline to her erratically beating heart and it's so amazingly painful that her eyes are forced shut. Is that ground beneath her feet now, or is she finally free, is she up into the blue with Finn at her side? When her eyes open, all she sees is a flash of red, cold gritty asphalt, and her wings are broken.

Finn is shocked by Amanda getting hit by a car, and kind of disappointed; he honestly thought she would bleed rainbows that would run through the gutter. But no, her blood is just like his, rusty, staining her silky hair, as his fingers slip over the phone keyboard, unable to type in 911, breathing so shallowly he's on the verge of passing out. "You'll be okay," he whispers with the utmost pain in his heart, letting the phone sliding out of his fingers after he makes the call, grabbing her hands.

Amanda is at the horrible forked path, as she looks out over both of them: one will lead her heaven, beautiful heaven, where she'll finally be an angel, with real wings, so delicately, cherry blossom perfect. One will lead her back to Earth, with its crime, its danger, Maleficent, trials, all the worst grit of humanity packed beneath the path's ground. But Finn is there, and Jez, and Willa, and Charlene, and Philby, and Maybeck, and her heart is going to burst into a thousand butterfly wings if she doesn't decide quickly.

"Make the right decision," her mind whispers, but Amanda isn't listening, because she's unfurling her wings, and she goes off running, like a piston shot, just her breathing, and heart thumping, and for once, not the soles of her feet hitting the Earth, only cold wind guiding her in the right direction.

The paramedic grinned in relief when Amanda's eyes opened, turning on the IV drip, the blare of sirens drowning his out until he speaks up, brushing back a lock of her hair. "Well Miss Lockhart, you gave us quite a scare," he says, making himself busy with injections, as Amanda looks to her right, seeing Finn, clutching her hand, looking like he might shatter into nothingness.

"Amanda-"

"I was scared," she whispers, but is cut off herself when his lips come in contact with hers, and, despite the fact she's just realized how much gravel has lodged itself beneath her flesh, her arms wrap around his trembling body, whispering, soothing, shushing. "I almost made the wrong decision, I almost left you," Amanda murmurs, quietly, because her throat is hoarse from severe sobbing. Warm tears trek down his own cheeks, sliding across her rusty skin, which isn't coated in rainbow blood.

"Just promise to never fly again," is his bone-chilling answer, words shaky enough to topple over with the slightest breath, as she grips his T-shirt for protection, words suspended on her lips, but swallowed when she shakes her head without him seeing.

_(Liar.)_

**What do you think? I really like Finn/Amanda, and I hope I portrayed Amanda well enough-I bet everyone is thinking "Oh my God, she almost killed someone again" but this was just symbolism about how Amanda's want to fly almost cost her life. Oh, well…please leave a review!**


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